


A Day In The Life Of Senior Constable Collins

by OllyJay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Body Swap, Gen, MFMM Year of Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyJay/pseuds/OllyJay
Summary: Dot finds herself having to take her husband's place working with the Inspector for a day and it's not as straight forward as she thought.





	

Dorothy Collins (nee Williams) was a woman of inordinate courage with a strong sense of duty and so, when she awoke on the 1 April 1930 to find herself inhabiting the body of her husband, she lay calmly in their matrimonial bed considering the unique situation. A deeply superstitious person, though she would describe herself as religious, she felt there must be some deep purpose for this strange turn of events. Could it be to help Hugh understand the role of the modern woman? Because even after more than six months of marriage there were days when she returned from Wardlow to find him waiting patiently for his evening meal. 

Regardless of the reason it was the undeniable truth that life must go on and so for the time being at least she would need to undertake her husband’s responsibilities. She looked at Hugh asleep beside her knowing he was unlikely to take the change well. Five minutes later when he awoke she was proved correct - he most definitely did not take it well. It took a full ten minutes for him to stop simply denying it was possible, a rather pointless conversation as it quite clearly had. Her suggestion that they continue to lead each other’s lives until things returned to normal was met with stunned silence.

“Hugh, we have people who rely on us, we can’t just disappear.”

“But Dottie I don’t know how to do all the things you do. And what if the Inspector is there? At Miss Fisher's? I don’t think that… I wouldn’t want to…” Hugh made an immense effort, “I don’t think I would be comfortable seeing him in his…” he struggled, “… his domestic environment.” 

Dot thought for a moment. It was true that since their return from England the Inspector spent more nights than not at Wardlow. And then there was the issue of Hugh's obvious lack of competence. What if he was asked to undertake mending or baking? Miss Fisher and Mr Butler would know immediately that there was a problem. No, it was clear that he would not be able to impersonate her. “You’re right Hugh, I think it would be best if I let Mr Butler know that you are not well today.”

Hugh gave a sigh of relief. 

“Instead you can practice your domestic skills, there’s laundry to do, the kitchen floor needs mopping and of course I’ll be expecting a hot meal when I get home tonight.”

Hugh looked worried.

*****

Dot arrived at the station ten minutes early feeling rather proud of the figure she cut in the smart uniform and shiny buttons. Knowing the first task of every day was to make a cup of tea for the Inspector, a rather nervous Dot placed her offering on his desk. “Good morning, sir,” she ventured.

The Inspector nodded, continuing to read his paperwork. “Thank you,” he said as he reached for the cup absentmindedly and took a sip. His eyes shot up immediately and Dot realised she had already made a mistake. “Has Mrs Collins been giving you lessons in the art of making tea?” he asked.

“Uh… yes sir…” she stammered.

“Good, good. A small but important improvement in our work day,” the Inspector almost smiled, “Could I suggest that, now you have mastered the tea, you consider lessons in biscuit baking next?”

“I… um…”

“It’s okay, I’m joking.” The Inspector lowered his gaze back to the papers in his hands, “Mrs Collins has a gift when it comes to baked goods, it would be too much to ask that it was a trait that ran in the family.”

As she walked to the front desk Dot felt proud that the Inspector rated both her tea and baking so highly. She decided to teach Hugh how to make tea exactly how the man liked it as a silent thanks for his appreciation – not the biscuits though, that would be too much.

The shrill sound of the phone made her jump, all of her old fear of the device came flooding back and for a moment she simply stared at it.

“Are you planning on answering that, Collins?”

The Inspector’s voice cut across her reverie, reminding her that that timid girl was long gone. “City South police,” she said, in what she hoped was an authoritative manner. The woman on the other end of the phone appeared to be chucking words out in no particular order. “I’m sorry Ma’am could you slow down please?” Another volley of seemingly unrelated phrases followed and Dot’s forehead creased in concentration as she sought to find order in the seemingly endless flow. “There is a man…” more words… “in your back yard…” the Inspector was now standing at his door. “And you think he’s going to hurt you.” Dot looked at the Inspector who was waving his hand to encourage her to gather more information in particular, if her lip reading was any good, the address. “Where are you Ma’am?” she repeated the address aloud as the Inspector disappeared back into his office to grab his hat and coat. “We’ll be right there,” she said reassuringly.

As they drove to the address the Inspector made mention of the calm management of the caller. He was impressed, Collins and hysterical women did not, normally, mix well. 

When they arrived at the address the Inspector went through the gate whilst Dot stayed by the car. She had only just lost sight of him when she heard sounds of a scuffle. 

“Collins! After him quick man!” the Inspector called out as the suspect jumped over the fence. 

Dot faltered, could she chase and apprehend a man of that size? The Inspector clearly thought she could and no doubt Hugh did on a regular basis. She girded her loins, metaphorically and ran. She was impressed with the speed of her husband’s body, she knew that he kept fit through his boxing but the power she felt, like a coiled spring within her was intoxicating. She easily caught up with the man but now she was unsure what to do. Did she reach out and try to stop him or throw herself at him? In the end she did neither, or more accurately both and by the time the Inspector arrived they were a tangled mess on the ground.

“Hardly up to your normal standard but effective none the less,” the Inspector said as he cuffed the man before dragging him to his feet.

Dot looked at the uniform that had been spotless this morning, there was now a rip at the cuff and the mud at the knees would take a special soak. My goodness she was going to be mad at herself when she got home and saw the extra time she would need at tomorrows laundry tub, not to mention the needlework. Perhaps she could rub the mud off and then she’d never notice? It occurred to her that, in a day full of the unexpected, this was probably not the strangest conversation she was going to have with herself.

“Collins!” the Inspector’s bark actually made her jump, “Did you hit your head?”

She looked up at him confused, “No.”

“Then do you think you could stop day dreaming and help me get our guest back to his new accommodations?”

Dot got up quickly, following him back to the car only to watch with absolute horror as he climbed into the back seat with the man. 

“Collins?”

She took a deep breath and slipped behind the steering wheel. A quick look at the various knobs and pedals suggested it wasn’t too different from the racing car that Bert had shown her how to drive but only a total optimist would believe this was going to go smoothly. Sounds of growing impatience from the back seat made her focus. She slammed the car into gear and they lurched forward. Once her head had rocked back to its normal place on her neck she was fairly happy with how things went.

When she came to a stop outside the station though she overheard the Inspector apologise to the man they had arrested. “I’m sorry about that, I hadn’t intended to torture a confession out of you.” The suspect, looking slightly green, seemed unconvinced. 

Almost immediately another call came through and they headed out again. Twenty minutes after they returned Dot looked up to find the Inspector leaning against the door frame of his office holding the report she had just given him.

“Sir?” Dot was nervous, she had made a lot of effort but she knew it wasn’t perfect. “Is there something wrong?”

The Inspector shook his head, “No, in fact it’s very detailed and accurate so really a marked improvement. I am a bit surprised at your interest in Mrs Blunt’s shawl though.”

Dot thought back, Mrs Blunt had phoned to report her husband missing. They had visited her house to gather more details and consider the domestic situation first hand (to Dot’s relief the Inspector had volunteered to drive.) It had seemed a fairly straightforward interview though she did recall the woman had been wearing a very lovely blue shawl.

Seeing the lack of comprehension in his senior constables eyes the Inspector began to read, “Mrs Blunt’s shawl, whilst perfectly charming, would perhaps be improved had she used a heavier yarn…”

Her hand flew to her mouth, how could she have been so foolish?

“Whilst I appreciate your insights it might be best not to include them in the reports.” A small grin passed across his face before he turned back to his desk. He hesitated for a moment, “Though if you want my opinion the increased weight would make the shawl drape better.”

Dot stared at space where the Inspector had been - that was exactly what she had thought, his breadth of knowledge really was astounding. Left on her own she stared at the phone suspiciously for a while but when it didn't ring she looked for something to keep her occupied and spotting a tray of papers she sat down at the typewriter. 

Miss Fisher wafted into the station just after one o’clock with a basket on her arm. “Hugh, how is Dot?” she asked immediately, placing the basket on the counter.

The Inspector wandered out of his office, whether to say hello to Miss Fisher or survey the contents of the basket was unclear. In any case he was treated to a stunning smile from Dot’s employer which he returned with a tilt of the head and a hungry look. Again Dot couldn’t tell if that was meant for the beautiful woman or due to the divine smells now wafting from the basket. Miss Fisher opened the basket and handed the Inspector a plate with a slice of bacon and egg pie.

“Mr Butler has packed extra in case Dot isn’t well enough to cook this evening, Hugh. Look, he’s thoughtfully put the reheating instructions here for you,” she smiled, “it’s so easy even I could do it.” She slapped the Inspector’s hand away from the basket, “Jack, really there’s more than enough for everyone.”

“You never mentioned Mrs Collins was unwell,” the Inspector said thinking that explained a lot about the man’s behaviour today, “nothing too serious I hope?” He snuck his hand into the basket and grabbed a slice of cake. 

Dot thought quickly - clearly it was very serious but how to explain? Probably best to tell a small lie she decided crossing her fingers and trying to calculate how many Hail Mary’s would be required. “She has been feeling under the weather and was terribly tired this morning. I’m sure it will pass.” The Inspector and Miss Fisher shared a knowing look that made Dot blush, “Oh I don’t think… I mean…”

“Nonsense Hugh, I’m sure that you’ve been practicing so it’s only natural that your efforts would prove fruitful.”

The Inspector was already half way back to his desk at this point not wishing to be witness to the poor man’s embarrassment. The woman was incorrigible and just because he happened to agree he saw no reason to encourage her. 

Dot was horrified, she had not meant to imply… this just proved why you should never lie. Fortunately at this point Miss Fisher abandoned the basket in favour of the Inspector, drifting into his office and shutting the door behind her. Dot wondered if Miss Fisher had a new case then she heard a giggle, the sort she had become more than accustomed to during her time at Wardlow. This was followed by the low rumbling laugh that she was beginning to get used to. She was surprised - it had never occurred to her that the Inspector would allow that sort of behaviour here in his place of work. She wondered how many other things Hugh had failed to mention to her. When Miss Fisher finally emerged with her hat slightly askew and a smile on her face Dot looked discreetly away.

“Hugh. Give my best to Dot and let her know I’ve got no cases at the moment so she’s to focus on looking after herself,” she gave him a wink before turning to leave.

“Thank you Miss, I’ll let her know,” Dot managed as she placed the basket on the floor and went back to the typing. Ten minutes later the Inspector asked her to walk down to the bank to obtain copies of Mr Blunt’s records. She’d been back less than half an hour when she was interrupted again. It was no wonder these reports built up.

“Collins” the Inspector called from his desk, “can you step in here for a moment please?”

Dot looked up from the sheet of chicken scrawls that passed for the Inspector’s writing, which was clearly another reason the reports took so long. 

“Collins, have you fallen asleep out there?” 

“No sir, just looking for my note book,” she called out. The Inspector was turning out to be quite a demanding employer - this was nothing like working with Miss Fisher. There was definitely no champagne and gossip on today’s schedule. Poor Hugh, if this was what he was like when he was happy, and given the twinkle in Miss Fisher’s eye when she had left he was very happy, she couldn’t imagine what he would be like when he was angry. She remembered to grab her notebook before she walked into his office.

“Thank you,” the Inspector was looking at the papers spread all over his desk and Dot valiantly fought her urge to straighten them. “I’ve been thinking about our missing Mr Blunt…” Dot pushed the corner of the closet piece of paper slightly to straighten it up. “…and this may not be the case of abduction his wife thinks it is…” Dot’s fingers walked along the desk to the next group of papers prodding and pulling them until they were stacked tidily on top of each other. “…I’ve found these payments in the bank statements you just picked up…” The Inspector, eyes lowered, watched fascinated from beneath his lashes as his senior constable continued his surreptitious paper straightening. “…and I think if we were to have a chat with the proprietor of the establishment receiving the payments they may have insights to share.” A quick phone call later and the absent Mr Blunt was on his way home to make his peace with the owner of the much considered shawl.

Dot looked at the clock, something she would never do with Miss Fisher but she had to admit this day had been hard and the end would be welcome. The Inspector, though a sterling man, was not the easiest of people to work with and the constant fear of slipping up was exhausting. Just then a very important looking man came striding in and aimed straight for the Inspectors closed door. Dot scrambled up to stop him, “Excuse me, you can’t…”

“Have you gone mad man? Take your hands off me – now!”

“I’m sorry but you can’t interrupt the…”

“I will interrupt anyone I damn well please!”

Suddenly the door swung open and the Inspector stood there. “Deputy Commissioner,” he threw a warning glance at his senior constable clearly suggesting he absent himself as quickly as possible, “step in please, sir.”

Dot, seeing that discretion was the better part of valour, got back to her typing as quickly as possible. It wasn’t long before the voices from inside the office could no longer be drowned out by the tapping of the keys and feeling guilty she had no option but to overhear snippets of what had turned into a very personal conversation.

_…making a fool of you Robinson…_  
_…nothing to do with you or the police force…_  
_…behaviour of one of our highest ranking officers is a reflection on all of us…_  
_…bigger things to worry about than where I chose to spend my nights…_  
_…using you as her personal police force…_  
_…crimes that would end up on our desk anyway…_  
_…the woman is one step away from a common…_

Suddenly every word that the Inspector said was crystal clear. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence!” There was complete silence. Then, in a voice full of barely restrained anger the Inspector continued, “You’ve made your opinion clear and I think I’ve been equally honest so all that remains is for you to consider what, if any, official action is required. Now I’ve got work to do so I’ll let you show yourself out.”

A very red faced man stalked out, slamming the door behind him loudly. Dot sticking with her original plan continued to type. Less than two minutes later the Inspector strode out with his hat and coat on.

“I’m going to get some fresh air, Collins.”

A quick glance at his face told Dot that fresh air was probably the least of his requirements. She had known that Miss Fisher’s reputation made things difficult for him but had never imagined anything like this, the man had literally been seconds away from striking his superior officer. And although she fully applauded the sentiment the consequences of doing so would be drastic. She wondered if Miss Fisher truly understood the predicament their personal relationship had put him in. Probably not and he would clearly never tell her. 

Less than an hour later the Inspector walked back in and, as if the argument had never occurred, calmly asked whether anything had happened in his absence. Dot was relieved to report everything had been quiet and he wandered back into his office. She gathered the reports that she had completed and walked in behind him.

He looked up surprised when she cleared her throat and held out the papers. “Thank you, Collins,” he said, shuffling through them. “Hang on - this is a weeks worth of reports,” he stared at his senior constable, “there is definitely something wrong with you today.” The Inspector looked back at the papers thoughtfully, “Though when these hit the Deputy Commissioner's desk all at once it’ll be a nice reminder of our high rate of case closure.” He smiled, “Good man, Collins. Now go home and see how your wife is,” he said starting to read through the reports. 

Dot packed up, not forgetting the basket that would likely be required for their evening meal. Forty-five minutes later she walked through the front door of their lovely little home and was immediately accosted by the most delicious of smells. She set the basket on the hall table thinking it would do for lunch tomorrow. Heading to the kitchen she spotted a stack of freshly folded bed linen in the parlour, in the kitchen the floor was sparkling and a cottage pie was steaming on the bench along with a vase of fresh flowers from their garden. There was however no Hugh.

Searching for her husband she headed to their bedroom. And there he was, fast asleep. She crawled on to the bed beside him, poor thing - considering everything he had achieved he must have been exhausted and she wasn’t much better herself. She had never realised how much he did in a day, from paper work to apprehending suspects to dealing with a brilliant but demanding boss. Her eyes already closing her last thought was that she would be more understanding about the state of his uniform in future…

**Epilogue**

The next morning the Inspector stared at the cup of tea on his desk with a rising sense of trepidation. He could not shake the feeling that the rest of the day was dependent on the taste of the brown liquid in that harmless looking container. Such a simple thing, yet empires had risen and fallen on the back of it and yesterday it had heralded the beginning of a day that had been strangely out of kilter all the way through. He told himself to stop being foolish - it was after all just a cup of tea. Taking a sip, a smile of relief formed as the familiar unsatisfying liquid swilled around his mouth. “Collins, I have never been happier to taste lukewarm over brewed tea in all my life. I'm glad to see everything is back to normal.”


End file.
